A Shoulder To Cry On
by Raven'sWinterRaine
Summary: A night alone with his guitar after being ditched for Daisy by his best friend. Again. What else is there for Richie to do but practice a little? How much trouble could he get in if Virgil heard him practicing? Well...


_**This is the alternate ending to **_**Teardrops on Richie's Guitar**_**. This is the happy ending.**_

Richie plucked at the strings of his acoustic guitar, then glance at the blue electric one that was in the corner of his room. He sighed, then looked back at the one in his lap.

About six years ago Richie had had enough saved up money that he was able to buy a guitar. When he got to the store he was both happy and sad to find out that the store was having a 'Going Out of Business' sale. Happy, because he was actually able to buy two guitars, plus the speaker, some picks, and a buttload of extra strings, but sad because he was hoping to be able to visit the store more often.

Since that day Richie had practiced on first the acoustic one, to get the feel and pattern of playing a guitar down, before trying with the electric.

He'd researched a lot about how to play guitars, even paid for some simple one-on-one tutoring classes.

Richie had improved a lot ever since he first started when he was twelve.

Right now he was thinking about which song he should practice, and when he decided which song, on which guitar he needed.

And that was the reason he was sitting alone on his bed on a Saturday night.

He had originally planned to go see a movie with Virgil, but Daisy found out that Virgil was going to go see it, and wanted to see it with him.

Even though Virgil had told Richie that _they_ were going together, he changed his plans and went with Daisy instead.

Safe to say that Richie felt a little sting at that.

So there he was, rejected, _de_jected, stressed, and trying to get into the right mind to pick a song and play it, if only to get his mind off of tonight, and maybe put in a little practice as well. He didn't want to get rusty.

He strummed absentmindedly, running through a list of songs in his mind before discarding them.

Before he knew it, he found himself strumming a familiar tune. He stopped for a moment, thought about the song, then decided that this was the perfect song to practice.

Even though he doesn't have the best singing voice out there, he chords and the words were all that mattered to him.

Readjusting his position so that he was sitting in the middle of his bed with his trusty acoustic guitar, Richie gripped the pick, checked his finger positions, then started to play, and then after a few slow chords, sing:

"Drew looks at me, I fake a smile so he won't see; That I want and I'm needin' everything that we should be…"

Richie couldn't help but think of Virgil. It was always Virgil, and Richie knew that it was always going to be Virgil.

"I'll bet she's beautiful, that girl he talks about…"

Richie's heart broke just a little bit more every time Virgil gushed about Daisy this, or Daisy that. It really hurt. What hurt the most was that Richie couldn't say anything about it.

"And she's got everything that I have to live without…"

_I'll never have Virgil the way that Daisy does_, Richie thought absentmindedly, tears welling up in his bright blue eyes at that thought.

"Drew talks to me, I laugh 'cause it's so damn funny; That I can't even see anyone when he's with me," he sang, thinking of how his world pretty much revolved around Virgil.

"He says he's so in love, he's finally got it right; I wonder if he knows he's all I think about at night…" The tears started to fall around this verse. Virgil was so blind to the way that Richie felt about him. He didn't see how much it hurt Richie to watch Virgil go out with these other people, _girls_, and know that Virgil would never look at him the way that Richie does.

Whenever Richie was having a bad day, he'd call up his best friend and talk, sometimes for hours. That would always lighten up his spirits.

But now…it seemed that they were always down…

A tear trailed down his cheek and landed on the wooden instrument below.

"He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar; The only thing that keeps me wishin' on a wishin' star; He's the song in the car I keep singing, don't know why I do…"

He kept up the chords, and singing, all the while his thoughts were racing.

Sometimes it was good to be a super genius.

"Drew walks by me, can he tell that I can't breathe? And there he goes, so perfectly; The kind of flawless I wish I could be…"

Even before Virgil became Static, he just had this…charm about him. While Richie was always the pessimistic, awkward, blond, white friend.

At least in Richie's eyes that's what he was.

And after the Big Bang…Richie saw so much more maturity, humility, charisma, charm, and so many other things in Virgil from being Static.

Richie wasn't blind though, he knew about Virgil's flaws; but it was those flaws that made him love the darker teen all the more…

"She better hold him tight, give him all her love; Look in those beautiful eyes and know she's lucky 'cause…"

_Daisy better know how lucky she is_, Richie thought, more tears falling as the heartbreak grew worse.

"He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar; The only thing that keeps me wishin' on a wishin' star; He's the song in the car I keep singing, don't know why I do…"

Richie paused in his singing for the guitar solo, in which more thoughts and tears came up.

"So I drive home alone, as I turn out the light," he thought, _I'll always be alone, won't I? _"I'll put his picture down and maybe get some sleep tonight…"

He felt the tears coursing down his face, but did nothing about them.

"Cause he's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar; The only one who's got enough of me to break my heart…"

_He breaks it every day and every night_…

"He's the song in the car I keep singing, don't know _why_ I do; He's the time taken up, but there's never enough…"

There was never enough time to spend with Virgil in the blond's eyes.

"And he's all that I need to fall into…." Richie adjusted his position again with the next verse, leaning back to that he was laying across his bed, feet dangling.

"Virg looks at me, I fake a smile so he won't see…."

The last guitar strums faded away, leaving only quiet in the darkly lit room.

Richie didn't feel like moving after he was done singing and playing, but he shifted enough so that the guitar was sitting on the bed with him, instead of _on_ him.

Richie swallowed hard as the tears continued to fall, only mildly irritated when they ran into his ears.

He knew that he would take his feelings to the grave with him. He had to. No matter what, Virgil could _not_ find out.

He'd rather cry himself to sleep at nights than ruin the best friendship he'd ever had with the best person he'd ever met.

Besides, what was a little heartbreak between friends?

He must have laid there on his bed for probably a few minutes, just wallowing in his sorrow, allowing the tears to fall freely.

_Tap Tap Tap_

Richie scrunched his eyebrows at the strange tapping sound. It stopped, so he didn't put too much thought into it.

_Tap Tap Tap Tap_

There it was again. It almost sounded like something was tapping on glass. Richie's eyes widened a bit at that thought.

_Tap Tap Tap Tap_

Richie slowly sat up, then looked over to where the noise was originating. Standing behind the glass doors that led to his balcony, Richie was shocked to see Virgil standing there, in full Static uniform.

He was also surprised to see that one of his doors were opened a crack.

He was sure it was closed earlier…

Puzzled over the strange events that were going on right now, Richie got up and went over to the doors. He opened the cracked door more, allowing Virgil to come into his room.

"Hey V, what are you doing here?" he asked, closing the door behind his friend. "Is your date over already? I thought the movie got out at-"

"I didn't go," Virgil cut him off, a weird look in his eyes as he looked at the guitar still sitting on Richie's bed.

"What?" Richie asked, moving to stand in front of Virgil, who hadn't moved to do _anything_ besides in front of Richie's bed, still staring at the guitar. "What do you mean you didn't go? Why?"

"It didn't feel right," was Virgil's distracted answer. Richie finally noticed that Virgil's attention was mostly on the guitar sitting on his bed, and rushed to fix that problem.

He picked up the guitar and went over to the corner by his closet, setting it against the wall with the electric one.

"What do you mean it didn't feel right?" he asked, turning and facing the other teen once his task was done.

The weird look in Virgil's eyes hadn't gone away, and it was starting to tick Richie off.

"What?" he snapped, and _finally_, Virgil looked _at_ him, instead of _through_ him.

Virgil blushed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away. He sighed, then reached up and removed his Static mask.

"I mean…it just…" he struggled to find the words, but after a few minutes, he slumped his shoulder, sighed, and sat down on the edge of Richie's bed. He placed his elbows on his knees, his mask held in his hands in-between. He stared at the floor as he spoke the next words. "I was meeting up with Daisy to go see the movie when I got this weird feeling in my stomach," he explained. Richie, figuring he might as well get comfortable for this, sat beside him on the bed, a few good feet away, figuring that Virgil needed the space right now.

"Sick feeling?" he prompted after his friend was quiet for too long.

"No…" Virgil dragged out the word, shaking his head. "Just…I don't know. Just a bad feeling. But not bad like something-was-going-to-happen bad, just…bad…"

_Oh Virgil, you are as eloquent as Shakespeare sometimes_, Richie thought sarcastically to himself . Sometimes getting Virgil to talk about his feelings was like pulling teeth. Which was understandable, but still. It was a good thing Richie could practically read his mind, even without his powers, because he could read between the lines of what Virgil was saying…or, well…_trying_ to say…

Richie nodded, showing that he was listening, but letting the other teen do all the talking.

"So, I called her up and told her that I wasn't feeling well. She blamed it on the burritos I had earlier, and told me to go take some antacids or something and get some rest. I asked her what we were going to do about the movie tickets, and she said that she'll get the refund for me. So, she went to get the refund while I went home. It was about fifteen minutes later, but I still didn't feel good."

He straightened his posture from the slumped one to where his shoulders were back, his hands bracing his weight on the mattress beside him.

"So, I started thinking about what the feeling might be," he continued after a few minutes. "Then I started to think about what you might be doing. Then I remembered that the original plans were that _we_ were going to see the movie. And that I completely ditched you last minute to go with Daisy."

_Ding ding ding, we have a winner_, Richie thought, only slightly bitter. Virgil was really going to pull this one out, huh?

"So I figured that I must have been feeling bad because of that, and that maybe if I apologized, I might feel better, and then I could make it up to you in some way…" Virgil trailed off, while Richie was nodding, finding the logic in what the teen was saying, and feeling like it _should_ be made up to him.

"So I dressed up as Static so that I could get here faster and apologize and make it up to you, but…" Virgil trailed off again, and had a slightly troubled look on his face. Seeing this, Richie leaned forward, bracing his weight on his knees with his elbows, to look Virgil in the eye.

"_Buuuut_…what?" Richie prompted.

Virgil closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, let it out, and when he opened his again he focus was on the guitars in the corner of Richie's room.

"But when I showed up here, I didn't expect to find out that you can play the guitar," Virgil said.

"That's what this is about?" Richie laughed, shaking his head and looking at the guitars as well. He had a smile on his face upon thinking that if _this_ is what his friend was troubled about, he shouldn't have worried in the first place. "Hah, that isn't much to be concerned about. I mean sure, I guess since I never told you before-"

"Or sing."

His voice was quiet, making Richie think for a second -just one second though- that maybe he hadn't heard anything at all.

But no. Virgil had this look on his face, and when Richie put two and two together and came up with an entirely different way to do math, Richie swore that he literally felt his heart stop beating.

Richie gazed at his friend, who was steadily keeping his focus on the guitars. With great difficulty he swallowed the quickly forming lump in his throat. For once in his life, there were no background thoughts. He couldn't conjure up a single excuse to explain what Virgil had heard.

Because he _had_ heard; Richie knew that this was the reason for Virgil's behavior. This was why his friend had this look on his face, this was why…Virgil wasn't looking at him…probably why he _couldn't_ look at him because…

_Oh_ god.

Richie couldn't help it. A million thoughts suddenly broke free from whatever had paralyzed them in the first place, all rushing, rushing, making it so that Richie had no idea what he was saying or thinking anymore. It was all just _there_, all at the same time, in a jumbled, rushing mess.

The only think that he knew he was thinking was one utterance:

_He knows. He knows. He knows. He knows he knows he knowsheknowsheknows…_

He stood up, feeling lightheaded and dizzy for a moment as he tried to get passed the dry mouth and lump that wanted to keep him quiet.

He couldn't be quiet. Not now. He _had_ to give a really good excuse. He couldn't let Virgil know the real reason. He knew that he was caught with the bloody knife in his hands, and standing over the body as well with a video of him stabbing the guy no less, but there _has_ to be some excuse that he could say to disprove that that had really happened.

Right?

"Listen, Virg, it's…-Okay, so you didn't know I could play guitar. Well, you know now, and it's no big deal, right? And, well, I wouldn't say that I can sing, I mean, I'm no Justin Timberlake or anyone like that, so my voice probably doesn't sound the way I want it to," at this point into the panicked ramblings, Richie had no idea what his body had done on it's own. He was up and pacing, his hands flying around to emphasize points in his story every now and then. His blood was still rushing in his ears, his vision was a little faded around the edges, his body was shaky, and he knew, he just _knew_ without really knowing at the same time that he was pale, and clammy, and that his heart was beating frantically with panic as he tried desperately to talk his way out of…whatever _this_ was.

He was going to die without telling Virgil, or him ever finding out. That was the plan. That was the whole plan. He was fine with that, really, because he could deal with _that_ a _hell_ of a lot better than _this_ situation he was in right now.

He felt faint.

"And, well, because my voice isn't all that great, you probably thought that I said something, but it was probably _completely_ different than what I really said. I mean, it's been known to happen, so really, it's no one's fault. Things happen! You know? So, whatever you _thought_ you heard, just…put it out of your mind, okay? It was nothing, it was really just nothing, and I know that I suck at singing, and I really never wanted to sing anything for anybody anyway, so this is all just really embarrassing, so if we could just forget this ever happened and you know, go on with our very complicated lives of being teenaged superheroes, then that would be really awesome-"

"Richie!" Virgil shouted, standing before the blond teen and gripping his biceps to just make him _stop_ pacing and moving.

While Richie had gone off on his panicked explanation, most of which Virgil couldn't even catch Richie was talking too fast, Virgil had had some time to think.

And observe.

And what he saw made him both sad and, for some reason, angry.

During Richie's very paranoid, rushed explanation, Virgil had tried to catch Richie's attention.

Several times.

To no avail.

And he didn't like what he was hearing either.

Finally, fed up with the whole situation, and fearing that Richie was going to give himself a heart attack if he kept this up any longer, Virgil had stood up and _physically_ stopped Richie.

Finally quiet, the darker teen took in the image of his best friend. Of his very _terrified_, panicked best friend.

His breathing was quick, his skin was pale and clammy, he was trembling in Virgil's grip, and his pupils were very wide.

Richie was _never_ that afraid, not even when they were facing some of the more scary or more evil-driven Bang Babies.

The fact that he was now, when he was only talking to his best friend…

Virgil's heart sank just a little bit.

"Look," he said, a bit more gently than he had first been when getting the blond's attention. He tried to think about what he wanted to say, and what _needed_ said, then sighed. "First, I need you to calm down. You're working yourself into a frenzy and it's not a healthy one." Richie nodded a bit, swallowing and taking a deep, but still very shaky, breath. "Okay good," Virgil continued. "Now, I want you to answer me honestly here Richie." Seeing the look of compliance on his friend's face, Virgil followed right on through with his question: "Did you, or did you not, say my name at the end of that song?"

Richie couldn't breathe.

Well, logically he knew that that wasn't true, his brain told him subconsciously that all heart and lung functions were fine and dandy, but really, he couldn't feel himself breathing.

His vision was fading a bit more around his edges, his heart feeling like it was beating piston-fast.

Too fast.

"I…I didn't…I mean, you…heard…" he didn't know what he was saying at this point, or that he was saying anything at all.

He couldn't hear anything.

The room was spinning.

_Fuck_, was the only thought that Richie was capable off thinking before his vision went black.

Virgil gasped, but reacted just as quickly from years of superhero-ing. He caught Richie as the teen dead-fainted into his arms.

Scared for his friend, the mocha teen carefully picked him up bridal-style, and gently set him on his bed. Checking his pulse, Virgil frowned at the fast pace, but after waiting a few minutes, frowned less as it slowed down.

He sat on the bed, laying his hand on his friend's chest to feel his breathing as well. It was also slower, and deeper, too, which was good.

He felt Richie's face and forehead, noting how cold and clammy his skin felt. Virgil sighed, took off Richie's glasses, then set them on the nightstand before going into the bathroom connected to the bedroom. Once there he pulled a washcloth from the cupboard, ran some cold water over it, and went back into Richie's room. He placed it on the blond's forehead, to hopefully ward off the headache that Virgil _knew_ Richie was going to have when he woke up. On that thought, Virgil went back into the bathroom and filled up the glass that was left by the sink as well. He put the glass of water on the nightstand by the glasses, then gazed around the room.

Seeing his backpack that he had left by the balcony door, Virgil decided that it would be best to change his clothes. He retrieved his bag, then closed and locked the balcony doors, drawing the curtain as well. When that was done, Virgil saw that Richie had made yet another adjustment to his room.

Much like in a movie theater, there were lines of dotted light surrounding the floor paneling of the bedroom. They were very dim, giving only enough light to just barely see by, making it so that anyone could fall asleep with them on. Shaking his head at his friend's apparent boredom to have done this, Virgil went about and changed into his "civilian clothes", which was really just a black t-shirt, and a pair of blue jeans and sneakers.

Once that was done, and his Static outfit was safely tucked away into his bag, Virgil resigned himself to getting no answers to his questions until the other teen woke up. He sighed, feeling horrible that his best friend had fainted- _fainted_- because of him.

It wasn't like he was trying to scare the other teen. He had just asked him a question.

_Though, it wasn't a very easy question to begin with_, Virgil thought as he pulled the covers up to Richie's chest, before laying on the bed, above the covers, himself. He turned to his side, looking at the blond in the dim light, and his breath almost caught in his throat.

Well, it was probably going to be awhile before Richie regained consciousness, so he might as well do some hard thinking about this situation. It was plainly obvious by Richie's reaction that he had heard right. Richie had sung that song. He had sung it about _him_.

He had to figure out what he really thought about this whole situation before Richie woke up, so that they could both figure out what they were going to do before moving forward with this.

Is there was anything to move forward with, that is.

It was obvious, from everything that Virgil had seen, that Richie has feelings for him. Romantic feelings, if the song he sang was any indicator.

So…how did Virgil himself feel about this?

* * *

It was hours later that Richie showed signs of waking up. He was laying on his back under the covers still, but he slowly came back to consciousness.

Everything around him was black, and for some reason his head kind of hurt. When he realized that everything _couldn't_ be black, unless he was suddenly blind, Richie slowly forced his suddenly-heavier-than-they-should-be eyelids up, seeing but not really registering what was going on around him.

Without even thinking about, as it is so many other times, Richie's brain put his sensory skills to work, since they were the very first to give any information on where he was.

First things first, it wasn't completely dark. There was some very dim, slightly red-looking lighting coming from the…floor?

Okay, weird, but whatever.

Second, he was laying on something soft. A bed, perhaps, judging from the blanket that was covering him.

His sense of smell wasn't really much to go by, but there was no underlying metallic smell of blood, or the dankness that came with concrete.

Lastly, it was quiet. Not completely quiet though, he reiterated in his mind, as the background sound of passing cars reached past the glass of his balcony doors.

Oh. He was in his room.

It almost scared him to realize how slow his mind was in getting to this point of realization. Usually he could tell where he was within a second of waking up, whether or not it's a friendly area or not.

Not this time though.

Just what had happened before he had passed out?

With that thought in mind, Richie finally moved, aside from opening his eyes. He slowly brought his right hand up to his forehead, already beginning to feel the tell-tale pounding of an upcoming headache.

He was surprised to find a cold washcloth on his forehead instead. He also found that he wasn't wearing his glasses either.

_Who would_- Richie's mind wasn't even able to finish the thought before his memory banked was hacked by his brain and the information flooded his head, leaking out of his ears.

Oh wait, that was just the water from the washcloth…or was it from the tears he cried earlier?

_Shut up Brain!_

**_Fine, but just to let you know, Virgil's right next to you. Kay, have fun with that bye!_**

Richie's eyes, already open, widened at that information.

Because Virgil _was_ right next to him, he saw as he slowly turned his head to look at the other teen. He was next to him, and watching him with a space-face.

Well, maybe he hadn't realized that Richie had woken up?

"'Bout time you woke up," Virgil said, his gaze focusing _on_ the blond teen instead of _through_ him.

Damn.

"You feeling okay?" Virgil was keeping his voice soft and gentle. He already had his answer, but he didn't want Richie to freak out again.

Besides, even though Richie was a super genius, he really needed him to understand this. From Virgil's point of few. He didn't want anything to be ruined between them.

But this needed to be said. It had to be understood. However, that didn't mean that it couldn't be said in a gently way, so as not to hurt Richie's feelings.

Richie nodded at his question, the events prior to his passing out making it so that he couldn't talk.

He didn't know what to say. Didn't know what he _could_ say at this point in time. It looked like Virgil wasn't mad at him, but that didn't mean he was about to forget everything.

He was really inconvenient like that.

"How's your headache?" Virgil kind of figured that Richie wouldn't want to talk right now, and now that he already had his answer, Virgil was more than capable of doing the talking for both of them. He didn't really need Richie to talk anyway. Only listen.

But he still needed some answers from the blond.

"Oh, uh…it's…okay," Richie said, only slightly awkward. "Thanks for the washcloth. It…probably helped it from getting worse."

Virgil nodded absentmindedly, shifting so that he was braced on his left hand while he reached over the blond with his right to grab the glass of water he'd left there earlier.

"Here. This will help too," he said, bringing the glass close enough to Richie to grab. Sitting up, Richie took hold of the glass, relieved when Virgil allowed their hands to touch.

"Thanks," Richie said quietly as he cradled the glass between his hands, looking at the water instead of his friend.

_Well, he's not freaking out,_ Richie thought as he took slow sips, not realizing until now just how thirsty he was. _But…that doesn't necessarily mean anything. He didn't freak out when our hands touched, but that could just be because Virgil's just a really physical guy. He might not know how _not_ to be physical…_

Richie squinted his eyes against that thought, seeing as the glass was against his lips and shaking his head to banish the thoughts was out of the question.

He put the now half-empty glass back on the nightstand, then, upon finding his glasses sitting there as well, put them on so that he could actually _see_.

He laid back down, then turned so that his back faced Virgil. He gripped the sheet that he was still under close to his chest, looking at the nightstand's side. He didn't want to start this conversation. He didn't want to _have_ this conversation.

A couple weeks ago he had been working on a device that would be similar to that of the Memory Wipe device from Men In Black. He hadn't quite had the time to make it work and fit it into that small of a device (the math just wasn't quite right yet), but he wished now more than ever that he had taken the time to make it. He wouldn't mind making Virgil forget what he had heard. Hell, forget this whole night!

"Richie…" came Virgil's voice from right behind him. "I know that what you're doing right now is your own way of saying that you don't want to talk about this- and I get that, I do, I mean, if I was in your situation-…" He sighed, not really knowing where he was going with that anyway and decided to try a different angle. "Look, the point is, you don't want to talk about it. I get it. But Rich…we _have_ to talk about this. If we don't do it now and get it all out of the way, it'll fester, and throw us off, and if we're thrown off and get into a battle with a Bang Baby, one or both of us could get seriously hurt. And I don't want that to happen any more than you do. So. Let's talk."

_Damn that man and his ability to use logic on me when I don't want him to!_ Richie thought to himself, gripping the sheet tighter. It was true. Virgil knew that if they were having a disagreement, or a moment of awkwardness, when Richie's first instinct was to hide away, not used to confrontations from the people he loved, all Virgil would have to do to get him to talk was to use logic. Good logic. Which was kind of hard to do sometimes, but he was more than capable of pulling it out when he really needed Richie to listen.

Like now.

"I don't wanna talk," Richie said childishly.

"I know," was Virgil's response. "But would you at least face _this_ way?"

Heaving a barely audible sigh, Richie turns so that he was on his other side, facing his best friend, but strictly looking at the spot on the bed between them.

He was scared. He knew that Virgil knew about his feelings for him. How could he not when Richie fainted like that when he was questioned? That was even worse than just blatantly saying 'Yes I used your name because I love you!' He swallowed hard, waiting to see what would happen.

Virgil sighed, sitting up so that he was facing Richie, cross-legged with his hands clasping his ankles.

He knew what he needed to say. Richie had to hear this, and while he wouldn't be entirely too happy with it, if it went the way he needed it to, Richie shouldn't feel crushed or hurt.

Hopefully.

Virgil knew that he was no Shakespeare, and the meaning behind what he was trying to say could get lost in what he was _actually_ saying, but he hoped that what he needed to say would come off as it had to.

For the both of them.

"Look Rich…." Virgil struggled to say what was on his mind. He sighed heavily, then tried again. "You're my best friend, you know that. And I don't want to ruin this relationship over something so trivial."

_My feelings are_ trivial _to you?_ Richie thought in anger, his eyes narrowing at the thought.

"It's just…I don't know…I can't do what you want me to. Believe me, I would if I thought it was a good idea, but it's not. It's not safe, for either of us. I mean, if somebody found out, we'd be putting targets on our backs! I just think that it's best if-"

At this point Richie couldn't hold it in any longer. Hearing Virgil _say_ all of this, every single word stabbed at his heart. He could've let him down a _hell_ of a lot easier than this!

He sat up quickly, on his knees and throwing the blanket down on the bed between them. He was furious, so much so that he didn't realize that his glasses had slipped down his nose a bit. He didn't bother to reflexively fix them, either, like so many other times that Virgil had seen him do it.

No. His sole focus was on what was coming out of his mouth.

"If you're going to sit there and say that you don't want to go out with me, then just fucking say it! I don't need all the explanations, I know _all_ of them, _dammit!_" At this point in the rant angry tears formed at the bottoms of Richie's eyes, collecting there from the anguished rage from Richie's heart. "You don't have to say that this is a bad idea, I _know_ that! That's why I never wanted you to find out that I love you! I didn't want to have to hear you say that it can't work, that you can't look at me the same anymore, that it's dangerous and stupid! That-!"

"Whoa! I didn't say that! I didn't mean it like that!" Virgil said, his quick interjection snapping Richie was his rant, instead making the focus on the dark teen in front of him. Hearing what Virgil said, and the evident shock in both the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes made it so that Richie didn't doubt it for a second that Virgil wasn't lying about what he said.

But then what?…

"Then what did you mean by "I'm sorry"?" Richie asked, his left eyebrow rising up while the other furrowed.

This question got a very weird response from his best friend. Virgil, although it didn't show on his dark skin, was blushing. Richie could only tell because Virgil also rubbed the back of his neck, looked down, and had this lopsided "guilty" smile on his face, which Richie had deduced to be Virgil's "embarrassment" tells.

"I…" Virgil tried, and failed, to say what his answer was. Richie was also very surprised by this reaction in his friend.

What did Virgil have to be embarrassed about anyway?

"I'm…sorry, that…look, after you fainted-"

"I didn't faint! I just passed out!" Richie said, trying to save any dignity he had left.

"Same thing dude," Virgil said with that horrible "you know I'm right" smile of his. He dropped the smile, once again looking off to the side, clasping his ankles. He heaved a sigh, then continued on with what he had been saying. "After you 'passed out'," he fixed a look at Richie when he said that, whose blush was more evident with his pale complexion, before he forged on with his monologue. "I had a lot of time to think about…well, everything. I thought about how I had felt earlier when I blew off our plans to go with Daisy, I thought about Daisy and how I am with her compared to how I am with you, and then I thought about the future. Every time I pictured the future, no matter how I thought it might be at different points in my life, there was always _one_ constant. You. You were always there. There was never any moment in my life that I never thought you _wouldn't_ be there with me, no matter what happened between us."

He looked deeply troubled as he saying the next part of his one-man confession. "There have been so many nights that I'd lie in bed, scared that a Bang Baby came too close to hurting you, and then I'd remember that I could have lost you on so many different occasions. I thought that I was just a bit obsessed with you- constantly worrying, being a little overprotective, and always wanting you near me." He gave a half-hearted laugh. "I was wrong though. I wasn't obsessed."

He looked right at Richie, looking directly into his wide blue eyes as he said: "I was in love."

Richie felt his breath leave him at that admission. He looked at Virgil's face, deep into his eyes, searching for _any_ trace that Virgil wasn't serious, that it was just a joke.

There wasn't.

"You're…sorry for…being in love with me?" Richie asked, still not quite understanding what Virgil meant.

"I'm not sorry for that, and I'm never going to be sorry for that," Virgil said with very firm seriousness. "I'm sorry…because if we _were_ to do anything about…_this_…we'd have to hide it. We couldn't tell anybody, and I do mean _anybody_. At least, not in the beginning. I'd want to see if this the right choice, it feels like it for me, but I don't…want to push this too far too fast and ruin anything. We can't allow anything to show out in public, either. We'd have to act like we always do, be careful not to let anything slip. We can't go public. With anybody. It has to stay between just us if we move forward with this Richie. I know that you know that."

"Wait, you mean to tell me that all of what you just said wasn't you rejecting me? But saying that we just couldn't go public with this?" At Virgil's nod, Richie was both happy, and pissed. "You asshole! Why didn't you just say _that_ instead of leaving that one indicating sentence out and let me think that you were talking about hating me, or that we shouldn't be friends anymore, or that you were going to be keeping your distance from me, or that-"

What's the best way to silence an angry, ranting, super genius?

That's right.

Kiss them.

Hard.

_Can't yell at you when their lips are otherwise engaged,_ Virgil thought triumphantly, smiling slightly into the kiss. He pulled back after a bit to take in the look of his very stunned, but quiet, friend.

"You okay with that?" he asked. Before Richie could give his answer, he interrupted. "Because this is going to be _really_ stressful, Rich. I mean it. I don't want you to get into this, then have the stress of hiding it make you angry or uncomfortable."

"Virgil, I completely understand," Richie said, his blush still present but his eyes bright with sincerity and his voice giving away nothing but the truth. "To be honest, I…never even thought that us being an…_us_, was even a possibility. The fact that you feel that way too…" he laughed in astonishment. "I'll take what I can get. If that means that I have to hide it away from the whole world and have you just to myself…" he frowned at a thought. "You know, we're really going to have to talk about this, to see if this is even what we really want. To see if this is going to work, if it'll be worth it, if-"

Huh. Seems that kissing works to distract him from other things besides angry rants. Who knew?

Virgil held the side of Richie's face in one hand while he used to other to brace his weight as he was leaning over Richie a bit.

He pulled away slowly, a small smile on his face as Richie had kissed him back a little bit that time.

"I know. We need to talk and all of that. But later, okay? I kind of wanna…." he kissed Richie again, slowly, starting to like the feel and taste of it.

Richie was sure that Virgil could _hear_ how loud his heart was beating, but that could just be the paranoia.

"Besides," Virgil whispered against Richie's lips, less than an inch away from his own, "You'll _always_ be worth it."

So that's how Richie's night went. From disappointment, to anger, to heartbreak, to fear, to fainting, to an argument with his best friend, to his best friend confessing his mutual feelings for him, to making out with said best friend-now-turned-secret-boyfriend, for the rest of the night.

They still needed to talk, but hey, that could wait.

After all, there were more _important_ things they had to do.


End file.
